December Celebration
by mmouse15
Summary: A series of prompts from the ProwlxJazz LJ comm, December 2010.  Prowl and Jazz deal with various situations, each in their own way. Rating has been increased.
1. A Lesson In Compassion

Title: A Lesson in Compassion

Prompt: Toys for Tots  
>SummaryNotes: Written for the lj user="prowlxjazz" December 2010 celebration. Enjoy?

* * *

><p>Jazz was grumbling to himself. Prowl could hear the sub harmonics of his vocalizations, but Jazz was very carefully not saying anything loudly enough for Prowl to actually hear. Grimly, Prowl ran over the scenario. They'd only recently woken from stasis on a planet the inhabitants called Earth. The crew of the Ark, chosen for their abilities to do their chosen jobs or specialties, not for their ability to get along, had been subjecting each other to increasingly destructive pranks. Jazz, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and Inferno had pulled a prank that had resulted in energon covering the floor of the common room of the Ark, a waste of a precious resource, which also caused a downswing in the mood of the entire contingent, already struggling to figure out their place on this new world and combat the Decepticons. Jazz had confessed that he hoped the result would have been laughter, not sighs and even anger. However, it was his opinion that they could simply replace the spilled energon by taking what they needed from the humans that lived around them. Prowl's doors had hitched up high on his back, showing his displeasure, and he had tightly informed Jazz that they would not be treating their allies in such an ill manner.<p>

As the SIC, the punishment detail had fallen to Prowl. He'd set Sunstreaker to helping Wheeljack catalogue the remaining contents of his lab and stockroom, ignoring the complaints of the yellow warrior about his paint. Sunstreaker was rather happy with his alternate form, scanned from an Earth vehicle, and loved the color and thus, he hated anything to happen to his paint right now.

Prowl hadn't blinked at Inferno's complaints of working with Red Alert, instead directing him to place the proximity detectors as Red Alert wished. He hoped Inferno would do his usual high quality of work, since the net Red Alert had designed would keep them safer if it was properly installed. If Inferno didn't do the work properly, he would find himself redoing, this time under very close supervision.

Sideswipe, the only family member not complaining, was helping Ratchet get the medbay cleaned and ready for the injuries sure to come in. He'd already taken an inventory for Ratchet and was right now putting together more medical berths from the remains of the old ones and other equipment they had at hand, listening to Ratchet's complaints about the primitive conditions they found themselves in on this planet.

Prowl had chosen to have Jazz do his punishment detail under Prowl's careful optics, aware that Jazz usually wriggled his way out of such details by promising to be better and charming his way out of any strenuous activities. This time, however, Prowl wasn't going for something physically punishing, but rather, something that would engage Jazz' s empathy routines and show him that the human culture was worthy of Jazz's protection, something the saboteur was having a difficult time understanding.

They finally arrived at their destination, a place the humans called a mall. As far as Prowl could understand, a mall was simply a collection of places to shop for items the humans deemed necessary. He wasn't sure why one would need small figurines made from silica and oxygen, but he did understand that the humans preferred to have cloth covering their skin, so the large stores that sold all manner of the cloths cut to fit human bodies made sense. He shook his head slightly to get himself back on track and led Jazz to a story on one branch of the mall that sold playthings for the young humans. He made himself known to the person that had requested their help.

"Ms. Smith? I am Prowl." He used a hardlight figure to introduce himself.

"Oh, Prowl! So nice to meet you. I thought you were, um, bigger. And more…metallic?" Ms. Smith seemed flustered.

"Yes, ma'am, I am. However, I have no desire to frighten anyone, so I use a hardlight avatar to interact with you."

"You mean, like a hologram?" Ms. Smith asked, puzzled.

"Something like that," Prowl replied, "You asked for our help – what can we do?"

"Oh, yes. Well, we're doing the Toys for Tots this year, and we're hoping to get a lot of donations because times are difficult, but we haven't really had a draw. I was hoping that if you could introduce yourselves and talk a little about the program that we could get more donations than we did last year. Please?"

Prowl nodded. "How did you want us to do this, as these figures or in our normal bipedal forms?"

Ms. Smith again looked a little confused. "I want you to be the big metallic guys we've been seeing on the news on TV. Can you do that?"

"Yes," Prowl answered. "Do you want to introduce us first, or simply have us scare everyone here?"

Ms. Smith did laugh at that. "I'll introduce you. If you wouldn't mind staying for an hour or so, to help us with this toy drive? The radio station is here, they'll be broadcasting and might want to ask you some questions, too. I hope that's OK." She walked over to the small stage area where a man was talking into the microphone and whispered to someone. A nod was exchanged and when the man finished talking, Ms. Smith walked to the microphone and spoke into it.

"Hello, and welcome to the annual drive for Toys for Tots. Today, we are thrilled and honored to have some special guests join us. You could say they are out of this world! May I introduce Autobot Prowl and Autobot Jazz. Give them a big round of applause!"

Prowl slowly transformed into his bipedal mode and heard Jazz doing the same thing behind him. They stood up, towering over the humans and both gave small waves to the awestruck faces turned up to them.

A gasp from the crowd, then applause broke out and built as more shoppers came over to see what the noise was about.

Prowl made a slight bow and said, "Thank you for your welcome. We are very happy to be here, supporting such a wonderful endeavor. I am Prowl, and this," he gestured, "is Jazz. To all who have donated a toy, thank you. To those who have not, please consider doing so and bringing happiness to someone less fortunate than yourself."

_::You sound like a professor, lecturing a class on mechanics or something similar.::_ Jazz sent to Prowl.

In response, Prowl sent Jazz a datafile containing the basic information about Toys for Tots – started in 1947, going national the following year. Only four years ago, a decision had been made that only new toys would be accepted, since it was getting more difficult to refurbish the used toys and taking a lot more time, now that they were mostly plastic instead of wood. Toys for Tots was the major charity of the US Marine Corps Reserve and every year tried to provide toys for children whose parents couldn't afford to buy them toys at Christmas time in the hope that the gift would help the children become responsible and productive citizens. Jazz set aside the 'patriotic' portion of the slogan and began to research the definition of the word. He found vastly different definitions on the mainframes of the various countries he could access; in the United States and Britain, it was a positive word, but that didn't hold true for some other countries, where it seemed to be used in a more negative sense.

Fascinated, Jazz, tapped into more computers and began to laboriously do research on Christmas, the Marines, and toys. Letting his processor tick away on the research, he still left enough of his processor free to interact with the humans that were fascinated to see Autobots up close.

The Marine that was also there, Major Thomasson, came over and introduced himself to the Autobots and the three of them patiently answered people's questions about the toy drive and about the Marines and the Autobots. After two hours, Jazz began to understand why Prowl had made this into his punishment detail – he needed to learn about the culture of the people they lived among and this was a very good way to show the Autobots in a positive light while teaching Jazz this lesson.

_::I've gotta hand it to ya, Prowl, you do think these things through.::_

_::I wouldn't be much of a tactician if I didn't, Jazz.::_

Jazz sent a sidelong look at Prowl before returning his attention to a man asking him about his chosen alt-mode.

_::Thanks, Prowl.::_

_::You're welcome.::_

After that day, Jazz began to look forward to working with Prowl. He enjoyed puzzles more than the average bot, and every single plan of Prowl's had at least two ulterior motives nested within. Jazz enjoyed teasing them out of the plans and began to admire the processor hiding within the stoic façade of the SIC.

It was, as the humans said, the start of a beautiful relationship.

The End.


	2. The Having Of Wonderful Ideas

Title: The Having of Wonderful Ideas

Prompt: Trans-Siberian Orchestra (going to or listening to)

Summary/Notes: This is based off real life experiences. I am old enough to remember when Transformers first came out, even if I was too busy with college to watch. I also was enthralled with Mannheim Steamroller and their fresh take on Christmas carols, which really changed the way Christmas music was played on the radio. However, they lost their freshness for me with their third album; it sounded like the same old stuff. However, the TSO released their album about the same time as MS released their third album, and I remember my first listen to 'Christmas Eve/Sarajavo 12/24' and how stunned I was at the blending. It remains my favorite TSO song, but I remember being really mad at the DJ for not telling me who this group was! They really did ask listeners to call in and tell them if they liked the music, since it was so different than anything else being played at the time on the pop stations and they didn't know if they should continue to play it. The listeners were overwhelmingly in favor of more songs from this group, I'm glad to say!

So I hope you enjoy this look back in time, when the TSO was brand new to the music scene.

* * *

><p>Jazz gave a small salute to Sideswipe as he replaced him at the comms board. Blaster, sitting at his own comms board, gave Jazz a smile before returning his attention to the communiqué he was deciphering. Jazz plugged into the board and began doing his own scans through all the channels, rapidly cataloguing messages into their various priorities. He gave passing thought to the explosion of data channels that had occurred over the past ten years, since they had come out of stasis on Earth. Not only were there military channels, radio channels and television channels, but now they had to monitor the computer channels, too. Jazz grinned to himself; he enjoyed the challenge of skimming through so much data and cataloguing it as quickly as he could. Others were not so fond of the job, but Jazz always just laughed. Cybertron, at its peak of civilization, would have drowned the human's idea of data exchange in mere seconds.<p>

He tuned into one of the local radio channels, grimacing at the caterwauling of the latest pop princess as she did the obligatory Christmas carol that reaching the top of the charts seemed to mean. He changed what he was listening to, but not before Blaster caught his grimace.

"What's up, Jazz?" Blaster asked.

Jazz shrugged. "I get kind of bored with the whole Christmas carol thing, you know? It seems like the same songs over and over, sung at different tempos, but the same songs."

Blaster looked puzzled and asked, "What about that group you liked?"

"Mannheim Steamroller?" Jazz asked.

"Yeah, them," Blaster said, "I thought you really liked their interpretation of the carols."

"I do, but I've listened to those first two albums over and over, Blaster, and I don't like the third one as much. I want something new." Jazz grumbled.

Blaster grinned. "Then I've got just the thing for you. Hang on…" a channel pinged for Jazz's attention, and automatically he connected to it.

"Listen to that," Blaster said, and returned his attention to his decryption.

Jazz listened to the song, loving how a single cello played, followed by an orchestra, then layered with a rock sound, the rock band and orchestra playing two different songs and blending them together, making a completely new sound that really grabbed his attention. He waited for the end of the song, listening intently as the DJ came on, but the man didn't give him the name of the song, only said,

"A new Christmas release – we want to hear what you think of it! Call us and let us know!"

Jazz growled at the comm board, and jumped slightly when Blaster laughed.

"They didn't tell you the name, did they?"

"No, they didn't. But it's awesome!" Jazz turned to enthuse at Blaster, then narrowed his optics behind the visor. "You know the name."

"Yes, I do. What will you give me in return for it?" Blaster leaned back, smirking at Jazz.

Jazz thought about that for a while, then replied, "I'll give you a can of my good wax."

Blaster dropped back down. Jazz didn't share his wax with just anyone, and the formula was a closely held secret, since Jazz mixed his own. "Two cans."

"Deal."

Blaster reached over and he and Jazz shook hands on it. "It's called Christmas Eve/Sarajevo 12/24, by a new group called the Trans-Siberian Orchestra. Keep an optic on them; I think they're going to be big."

Jazz nodded. "Is this their first album?"

"Yes," Blaster replied, "they just formed last year, and this is their first release. I'll get you a copy of the whole album, OK?"

"That would be great," Jazz replied, then turned his attention to the comm channels.

* * *

><p>Years later, after truing to convince Prowl to listen to any Christmas music, Jazz was delighted to find that the TSO was now touring, and he promptly got in touch with the promoters and requested tickets and access for he and Prowl. Pleased with their response and clutching the oversized tickets they'd sent as a gift, he sprung the surprise on Prowl.<p>

"…and they're giving us a spot right in the center – it's still at the back of the venue so we won't block people from seeing – but they're excited that we'll be coming!"

"Jazz, I don't really like human music," Prowl reminded his friend.

Jazz put his hands on his hips in imitation of Carly when she was chewing out her husband. "Prowl, after all the trouble you went through to get me to appreciate human culture, you're going to pull that on me? No way, buddy. You owe me for that stunt with the Marines."

Prowl looked at him oddly. "Jazz, that was fifteen years ago."

"Right, it's about time you paid me back," Jazz replied cheerfully.

Prowl opened his mouth, then closed it again. "I can't win this one, can I?"

"Nope," Jazz told him cheerfully, "so be prepared. It's tomorrow night, and Blaster's doing you a favor and covering your shift. Prime sends his blessings."

Prowl's doors drooped. "Alright. What do I need to bring?"

Jazz shrugged, "Yourself. We need to leave by 3 PM to get there in plenty of time, so I'll meet you by the front doors then."

"Fine," Prowl answered.

Jazz waited. Prowl looked at him.

"You gotta promise me you'll be there. Otherwise, you'll find some way to wiggle out and leave me hanging," Jazz explained.

Prowl grit his denta together. Caught by the master, he finally nodded. "I promise to meet you by the front doors of the Ark at 3 o'clock tomorrow afternoon."

"Excellent!" Jazz left, bouncing down the hallway in excitement.

Prowl closed his office door, dreading the time spent with Jazz in such close quarters. He had successful fought his attraction to the mech for a long time, but something about this planet made it more difficult to remember that they were only friends.

The next afternoon, as promised, Prowl was waiting at the doors of the Ark. Jazz bounced up and they folded down into their alt-modes, driving carefully along the dirt road until they reached the highway, then heading west to the big city.

Their drive was pleasant and uneventful. The venue was an open air amphitheatre, which allowed Jazz and Prowl to settle themselves on the grassy area against the back wall of the area. The people that ran the venue helped them get settled, then strung stanchions and rope around the two mechs to define their space.

They watched the people file in for the show, casually chatting back and forth. The TSO had become very popular for their fresh take on Christmas carols, and Prowl could see that the people were very excited to be at this concert.

Jazz was practically vibrating with his own excitement, and Prowl found his enthusiasm contagious. He watched the people find seats on the grassy area, while others sat in rows of seats closer to the stage.

Jazz explained that the seats were assigned seating and cost more, but the grassy area was open seating, so the people had to mark their seats, which they did with blankets or coats spread out on the grass.

"So why did they put a rope barrier around us?" Prowl asked.

"More for the safety of the people than for our benefit. Little fingers getting caught in our gears because we can't feel them, or some other accident like that would be bad press, Prowl. So the organizers offered to give us a little bit of room." Jazz waved at a little girl looking at him. Bashfully, she ducked her head into her daddy's shoulder, then peeked out again. Jazz grinned at her, and she lifted her head and grinned back at him. Prowl watched with a pang in his spark. Mech or human, Jazz was so good with the young of the species.

As the sun set, the lights came up on the stage and the show began.

Since this was the first time they'd toured, Jazz had no idea what to expect. The loud music was fine, but he hadn't know about the lights and fireworks and incredible visual feast. He turned to Prowl to enthuse about a specific set of lights and found him with his optics off and doors flat against his back.

_::Prowl?::_ Jazz sent, worried.

_::Yes, Jazz?::_ Prowl replied.

_::Are you alright?::_

_::Yes, I'm fine. You're right. This is quite good music.::_ Prowl told him.

Jazz frowned. Prowl didn't look comfortable with his doors flattened like that. _::That's nice. Why do you have your optics off?::_

_::The pyrotechnical show is a bit overwhelming for the sensitivity setting I use, but it takes Ratchet or Hoist to dial down the sensitivity. So I am saving the receptors by simply turning them off. You'll have to share your captures with me.::_

_::And the doors?::_ Jazz asked.

_::Same thing, only I can't really turn those receptors down at all. So I've tucked them behind my body where they only pick up the data from behind me. I am enjoying the show, Jazz.::_

_::OK, Prowl.::_ Jazz turned back to the show, but his enjoyment was spoiled. He and Prowl stayed until the very end of the show, watching the people stream out of the amphitheatre to head to their homes.

The people in charge came and removed the barrier when there were only a few lingering souls about. Jazz thanked them for their time and attention, then left with Prowl.

The drive back to the Ark was mostly quiet, with Jazz brooding while Prowl played many of the songs they had listened to that evening on his stereo. Prowl finally noticed Jazz's silence.

_::Jazz? What's wrong?::_

_::I finally get you to a concert and you can't enjoy it properly.::_ Jazz grumbled.

Prowl was silent for a moment, then sent _::I enjoyed it very much, Jazz, because I got to spend time with you. That the music was good was a bonus. Thank you for a wonderful evening.::_

Jazz was stunned. He'd thought that Prowl had really hated the show, despite his reassurances, but to hear that Prowl had enjoyed it simply because Jazz had also been there required some thinking on his part.

Prowl had accelerated away from him and was humming smoothly along the highway. Jazz sped up and caught up to his friend, his good mood restored.

_::Thanks, Prowl.::_

_::You're welcome, Jazz. Thank you for the wonderful treat.::_

In companionable silence, they returned to the Ark.


	3. Winter Wonderland

Title: Winter Wonderland

Prompt: Walking in a winter wonderland.  
>Notes: For the prowlxjazz December 2010 celebration<p>

* * *

><p>Prowl slowed as his tires slipped, extending his sensors to try and catch any hazards in front of him. Behind him, he could feel the pulse through his systems as Jazz did the same thing.<p>

_::This is insane, Prowl. Even if the Decepticons did try to pull something, this weather would freeze their bolts off.::_ Jazz's comm voice even managed to convey shivering, which Prowl found extremely funny.

_::Jazz. We can travel in space without a spaceship. Not that we do, but we can. No weather Earth has is cold enough to stop our functioning. We also don't shiver to get warm, since that is a function of some warm-blooded animals and not robotic life forms such as ourselves.::_

Silence followed for a few moments, then _::You know how to take all the fun out of something, Prowl.::_

_::I'm not trying to spoil your fun, Jazz, but we are supposed to be patrolling along this highway, and so we shall patrol and do our best.::_ Prowl returned his attention to the road, since they were climbing higher and he didn't want to slip over the edge, which was quite likely even with the barrier the county had placed at the edge of the road.

"Watch out!" Jazz's voice was unexpected, as was the hand that grabbed his light bar and **pulled**, moving him back on the road quite a distance. Prowl slammed into the rock wall further down the road as Jazz slid past him in robot form.

The barrier held. Prowl dazedly reminded himself that human engineering was quite good, and this was basic physics and engineering, easily calculated and implemented. He transformed and turned to look up the road.

It wasn't there. An avalanche of snow and trees and boulders covered the road and spilled over the edge.

Jazz was lying on the road staring up at the sky. The barrier had separated from its wooden stanchions, but the metal had held and kept Jazz from sliding over the edge. Prowl walked over to him and offered him a hand up, which Jazz took.

They surveyed the mass. Prowl ran a few scans, but it was impenetrable as far as his scans could go.

"Cosmos says it's about 1200 feet across," Jazz reported.

Prowl was surprised. "That's almost a quarter of a mile."

"Yup," Jazz responded, "and it's been reported. We're not using this road to get over this mountain, so let's head back." With that, he began his transformation sequence, then stopped mid-way with a squeal before reversing and collapsing.

"Oh, not that way, bad Jazz. That really won't work."

Prowl was concerned, "What happened? Jazz, what's wrong?"

Jazz recovered himself and told Prowl, "I got hit by a rock when I was pulling you out of the path of the avalanche. I didn't think it had done any damage, but I guess I was wrong."

Prowl began looking his friend over and found a huge dent along Jazz's flank. "How could you not notice this?"

"It didn't hurt?" Jazz said.

"How does it not hurt?" Prowl asked.

Jazz shrugged. "It just doesn't."

"Well, we're not going anywhere like this, with the weather and your inability to transform. Let's find shelter." Prowl replied.

Prowl helped Jazz up and they began to walk down the road. The snow made it difficult, but what was worse was the wind that pushed up the valley, turning the snow into something slick and unstable.

Things improved once they reached the shelter of the trees. The wind, although still present, wasn't trying to drive right through them and the trees broke up the snow, making the walking easier. Once they reached the shelter of a cliff that the road ran next to, the wind died down to almost nothing, letting the snow drift straight down instead of the almost horizontal angle the wind had forced on the white flakes.

"Look!" Prowl pointed up. There was an overhang at the base of the cliff that appeared to have enough room to hold them both. They left the road and clambered up the slope. Jazz crawled under first and was surprised to find it kept going back, until he could go far enough back that the wind and snow were no longer a bother to him. Prowl followed him in until they were tucked against the back, watching the snow drift down outside.

It was chilly in the cave, but not as cold as it was in the wind. Jazz and Prowl tucked themselves around each other, sharing the heat generated by their bodies and slowly warming the cave.

Prowl pulled energon rations from his subspace, offering one to Jazz.

"How did you know we'd need them?" Jazz asked, grateful sipping at the energon.

Prowl shrugged, "I ran the probabilities. It seemed a wise precaution."

Jazz grinned, "Thanks for not running through all the computations."

Prowl grinned back at him, "You are more than capable of running them yourself, Jazz."

They lapsed into silence, sipping their energon and watching the snow fall. Finally, they were done. Jazz subspaced the empty cubes for later recycling, then resumed his position, pressing against Prowl's side and absorbing warmth from the tactician.

Prowl shifted minutely some time later. Jazz stirred sleepily, the quiet and increasing warmth and the soothing sight before them lulling him into recharge.

"Jazz?" Prowl asked, quietly. "May I ask you a question?"

Jazz tensed slightly, but replied, "Sure, Prowl."

"Why did you invite me to that concert?"

Jazz's tension was increasing, but Prowl didn't back off. He really wanted to know. Haltingly, Jazz began to speak.

"I wanted to figure out a way to share with you the wonderful parts of the human culture I've found. After all, it was due to you and your making me do the Toys for Tots drive that made me see that human beings were a species worthy of our consideration, and then I found all the amazing parts of their culture –music, especially – and whenever I tried to share with you, you kind of blew me off."

"Blew you off?" Prowl asked.

Jazz waved his hand, "Human expression, it means that it felt like you didn't really listen to me. Anyway, I felt like I couldn't make a connection with you, and I really wanted to. After all, it didn't feel fair that you'd shown me this amazing species and their amazing culture and I couldn't share it with you. So when the TSO came to town, I thought it was a perfect blend of the classical music you like and the rock music I like. I just…I wanted to share my enthusiasm with you, Prowl."

Prowl listened and thought about what Jazz was really saying. He confessed, "I agreed to go because Blaster talked to me and pointed out how often I said 'no' to something you suggested, when I really want to spend more time with you. I just felt uncomfortable outside the barriers of our positions within the Autobot command structure."

Jazz laughed, "Blaster was comming you while I was pushing you to go?"

"Yes, which is why I gave in so easily. He pointed out how I could say 'yes' this time and find out what it was like," Prowl told him.

"So you did," Jazz said. "What did you think of it?"

Thus started the long conversation between the two mechs as they watched the snow pile higher and higher, each of them sharing little things they had found in the cultures of this planet that they enjoyed, or had thought funny or unusual. Jazz shared his stories from the time he'd toured the western United States and participated in a cattle drive, while Prowl shared his memories of being part of a diplomatic mission to the former Soviet Union after it had collapsed and was in the process of becoming Russia again. They talked long into the night, eventually slipping into recharge, still sharing each other's warmth.

When they came out of recharge the following morning, the morning sun brilliantly illuminated the winter wonderland spread out before them. Jazz caught Prowl's arm.

"Prowl…"

"Yes, Jazz?" Prowl answered, his processor on the scene before him.

"Could we continue this?" Jazz asked very quietly.

Prowl turned back and looked at him. "What? Being friends? Yes, I think so."

Jazz reached out and touched his cheek, his optics intent on Prowl's. "More than friends, maybe?"

Prowl sucked in some of the cold air, needing the extra ventilation to cool his suddenly overheating systems. "If that's what you want, yes. We can see."

"Prowl…" Jazz ducked his head, moving slowly. Prowl let him come closer, until he was as close as they could be, then Jazz laid his head on Prowl's shoulder and grasped the opposite shoulder, holding him in a hug and ventilating heavily.

Prowl felt something move in his spark, the care with which Jazz was holding him spoke volumes about the other mech's feelings for him. Prowl wrapped his arm around Jazz's and pulled his door over Jazz's body, using it to give Jazz a hug in return.

They remained that way for long moments, then Jazz finally moved and Prowl released him as Jazz released him. They turned their attention to the scene before them.

There was a lot of snow on the ground. It covered everything in white, and the evergreens that made up much of this forest looked like the ideal Christmas trees portrayed on cards and advertisements for the holiday season, with each branch covered in snow and pulling the tree branches down, making every tree look almost perfect.

"A winter wonderland," Jazz mused.

Prowl looked at him, and in response, Jazz began to play a song about walking in a winter wonderland and talking to a snowman and pretending he was a minister. Jazz burst into laughter at the look on Prowl's face until the snowball hit him squarely in the mouth.

Sputtering, he rolled to his feet to see Prowl rapidly packing snowballs.

"Oh, it's on, Mister Tactician," Jazz began rapidly forming his own arsenal.

Thus, when Inferno and Blaster show up to rescue them, they found the two mechs in an epic snowball battle, each covered in snow and giving as good as he got, laughter ringing in the valley, along with good-natured teasing.

"I guess you don't need rescuing," Inferno said, transforming and surveying the two combatants.

In reply, they both lobbed snowballs at the fire truck, but he backed away. "Nope, I'm a neutral! I expect you to respect that."

Blaster was laughing his aft off and recording as much of the fight as he could. Prowl and Jazz grinned and hit Blaster with snowballs before coming out from their barriers, arms up in surrender.

"We give! We'll come quietly!" Jazz called out.

"Come along, yes. Quietly? You couldn't handle it, Jazz," Blaster laughed, wiping the snow from his face.

With the bantering occupying their attention, the return trip to Autobot City was quick, if not easy. The snowfall had been a record one, blanketing the entire region in snow and snarling travel all around. Jazz was grateful when they arrived – he was looking forward to warm water to get the snow out of his seams.

Prowl caught his arm when he was entering the first hallway. "Jazz, I've been assigned to go down to Mexico and talk to the president about allowing our people access to certain regions of Mexico. Would you like to come with me?"

Jazz smiled. "I'd love to come with you, Prowl."

"Excellent. We leave in a week. I'll send you the details." Prowl gave him his own smile before they parted.


	4. Christmas Star

Title: Christmas Star

Prompt: Cuetlaxochitl (the original name of the poinsettia - the X'mas flower)

* * *

><p>After consulting with Optimus Prime and Skyfire, Jazz and Prowl decided to drive down to Mexico instead of using Skyfire, who would rather do the run to the moon base and take Perceptor the supplies he wanted up there. Of course, Skyfire was gracious as always and said it would be no problem for him to take them, but Jazz pointed out that they would get a lot more information if they saw the territory themselves rather than flying high over the ground. Prowl couldn't disagree, and the decision was made. They would drive Nevada, then through Arizona and New Mexico before turning south through Texas and into Mexico.<p>

As they drove, they talked to each other, learning things about the other that they hadn't bothered to learn before. Prowl had been an artist before the war, while Jazz had been an entertainer. Early on, Jazz had used his ability to talk to almost anyone to pass information from Decepticons sources to the Autobots. Prowl had volunteered his services to the Autobot cause fairly quickly, and had rapidly risen through the ranks because he had the ability to shut away external distractions and focus on the task at hand. He also had an aptitude for applied statistics that had been an asset to the tactical unit. Jazz's segue into Special Operations had been a natural extension of the spying he'd done as an entertainer.

Jazz was delighted with their conversation, but also happy when the sun set just as they entered Texas so they were able to cool off and drive faster. The two mechs continued on their way, mostly following the border until they reached Laredo, where they crossed the border. They wound their way sound, climbing into the highlands until they dropped into the bowl that held Mexico City. The drive had taken a day and a half.

Prowl sought out the US embassy. All the Autobots were equipped with avatars, hard light forms that could, briefly, look human. He showed his identification to the guard, as did Jazz, and they were waved into the compound, the guards watchful and alert as they closed the barriers behind the two Autobots.

The US ambassador came down into the garage to visit with them, and arranged with Prowl about the meeting with the Mexican president, while Jazz was going to play tourist and go see some of the wonderful sites available in Mexico City. He huddled with one of the minor dignitaries from the embassy and discussed the places he wanted to visit and came up with a short list for the morrow.

The following day, Prowl left in the ambassador's caravan, while Jazz went off to see his sites.

Jazz had a wonderful day, driving around to see the city. When he made his way back to the embassy, he was glad to see Prowl had also returned.

"How was your meeting, Prowl?" Jazz asked, snugging himself into the parking space next to Prowl.

Prowl sunk down on his tires. "The President would like a chance to think about it, and meet with me again in a few days."

"Too bad. Hey, would you like to go play tourist with me?" Jazz nudged Prowl gently.

"Yes, I would." Prowl sounded tired.

"Great! We'll get started in the morning," Jazz told him, "You recharge now, I'll stand guard."

Prowl initiated his recharge cycle, trusting Jazz to watch over him.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Jazz led Prowl out of the city heading south. They drove for a little over four hours before arriving at Oaxaca City. They had a wonderful time playing tourist and going through the historical center, looking at the church of Santo Domingo, admiring the architectural features of the baroque church. They then headed out to see the ruins at Lambityeco, heading south and east from Oaxaca City. As they drove, Jazz admired the vegetation growing along the hills, taking still captures as he could for later identification. The hills were a riot of color.<p>

When they reached the ruins, the tour guide was very happy to show them around. They admired the two masks and the tombs. They were restricted from explore huge portions of the ruins because of their size, and they soon continued on their way, heading back to Oaxaca City, then down to Puerto Angel before traveling back up to Acapulco and then returning to Mexico City. Along the way, they took detours and went where ever they wish, as the whim took them. Usually it was Jazz choosing, but Prowl got into the spirit of exploring and sometimes would dodge off the main road onto a side road that looked interesting to him.

Jazz kept Prowl entertained by telling him stories about the region they were passing through, with Prowl laughing at the inconsistencies to the various legends.

"So, this little girl just picked a bunch of weeds to offer to their god, and the god turned them red?" Prowl asked.

"Supposedly, that's the legend. Of course, it's nifty how it fits in the Catholic symbolism of the time. There's an earlier legend," Jazz offered, "do you want to hear it?"

"Yes, Jazz, I do," Prowl said.

"So, the legend goes that the people of Taxco didn't wish to pay tribute to Moctezuma, so he went to war against them and slaughtered huge numbers of men. This flower sprang up in the pools of blood in commemoration. Later, Moctezuma came to Taxco and saw the flower and had some of the plants taken to his botanical gardens at Huaxtepec."

"These sound interesting. Which plant is this, Jazz?" Prowl asked idly.

Jazz stopped and transformed. They were on a small road, still dirt, as they puttered their way back to Mexico City. Prowl followed his lead, transforming himself into mech form and moving close to Jazz.

Jazz pointed up the slope to a large woody shrub with broad leaves and small red flowers. "There, that's the cuetlaxochitl plant."

Prowl looked at it critically and commented, "It doesn't look like the poinsettias Carly uses to decorate their house."

Jazz laughed, "No, it really doesn't. Those are cultivated hybrids. These are the original plant, the real deal."

Prowl looked up the slope, then down the slope. There was a clearing below them, and Prowl clambered over the edge of the road and made his way down to the clearing. Jazz followed him. Once in the clearing, Prowl turned toward Jazz.

Jazz froze at the look on Prowl's face. Prowl reached over and cupped Jazz's cheek. "Thank you, Jazz. Normally, I would have spent my time at the embassy, waiting for the President to call me and bemoaning the lack of anything to do. Taking the days to spend time with you and explore the country has been a lot more fun, and I wouldn't have done it without you."

Jazz leaned his head against Prowl's hand. "You're very welcome, Prowl."

Leaning forward, Prowl pulled Jazz's head down gently, then pressed a kiss to his audial horn, drawing a pleased intake from Jazz. Prowl released Jazz's head and let him stand up again.

Jazz looked at Prowl carefully. Prowl had a slightly fearful look on his face, as if he was afraid he'd overstepped the boundaries they'd laid between them. Jazz grasped Prowl's head and gently pulled it down so he could press a return kiss to the chevron that always fascinated him.

Prowl shuddered under his hands and Jazz released him, startled at Prowl's response. As Prowl's head came up, Jazz drew in cool air to calm himself, because Prowl's optics were heated.

Prowl pulled Jazz down to his knees, then coaxed him into lying down on the grass. Prowl laid down so their heads were together and he could easily reach Jazz by hovering over him. Slowly, Prowl moved until his lips were over Jazz's.

"So you want this, Jazz?" He breathed.

"Yes!" gasped Jazz.

Prowl closed the distance, sealing their lips together.

It reminded Jazz of that movie about Spiderman, with the upside down kiss, and it felt amazing. Prowl was careful with the kiss, pressing gently and holding himself up over Jazz.

Jazz growled and reached up, grabbing Prowl's shoulders and empulling/em as he opened his mouth. The resulting kiss was deeper, and Jazz took the opportunity to taste Prowl, moaning at the flavor of oils and lubricants different from his own. Prowl tasted wonderful, and Jazz couldn't get enough of the taste, opening his mouth a little wider to get more of Prowl.

Prowl, meanwhile, was balancing himself on his forearms and enjoying Jazz's taste. He moaned as Jazz deepened the kiss further, exploring each other and enjoying the freedom from anyone else watching or caring what they did.

They remained in that sheltered clearing for the remainder of the afternoon, whispering the secrets lovers share and exchanging kisses and enjoying each other's company. Tomorrow would come soon enough, with a return to their duties and the demands of life, but for now, they could exist in a timeless sanctuary and revel in each other's company.


	5. Las Posadas

Title: Las Posada  
>Prompt: "Explain to me again why are we breaking this...piñata?"<br>Summary/Notes: Based upon real life experiences.

* * *

><p>After spending the night curled around each other in their clearing, Jazz and Prowl continued on their journey to Mexico City. They were still lazy about it, exploring anything that caught their fancy and simply enjoying being with the other. They made Acapulco in the early afternoon and spent a few hours lazing through the town. Jazz was awed by the cliff divers, marveling at the skill to take such a long dive and slice through the water safely.<p>

They got on the highway to Mexico City, but soon got off, preferring to take a more meandering route back to the capital. As dusk fell, they found themselves in a small village, but the road was blocked. Frustrated, Jazz transformed so he could stand up and see what was going on.

"Prowl, c'mon up here," he said after a few seconds of scanning.

Prowl did so, the turned to Jazz. "What are they doing?"

Jazz was bouncing on his tiptoes. "It's gotta be Las Posadas!" His optics flickered, which Prowl had come to recognize as Jazz rapidly shifting through the internet. "Yup, that's what it is."

Prowl could have accessed the internet himself, but instead looked to Jazz for an explanation.

Jazz was more than happy to oblige. "OK, this is a Christian, no, a Catholic story. I've told you the legend of the birth of their savior, the guy that sacrificed himself to wipe clean the sins of all humans, right?"

"Yes," Prowl agreed.

"So this kid was born in a stable, and the story is that his parents had to go to be counted for a census, and they had to go to the hometown of the male line, which was a little village named Bethlehem. So Mary, that's the mom, and Joseph set off to be counted, even though Mary's ready to pop a youngling out, they've got to go. Well, lots of people are in Bethlehem to be counted, and every place is full – hotels, houses, everything. So they get refused until at one inn, the innkeeper says they can stay in the stable with the animals. So that's where the baby was born." Jazz was using his hands for emphasis as he told the story, and Prowl was smiling at his enthusiasm.

"So, anyway, Las Posadas is a recreation of that journey to find a place to stay. They do this for nine days, and they go around to various houses each night until they find one that they can stay at for that night, where they say prayers and then have a party with traditional foods and a piñata for the kids. Then the next night, they start their journey again and this repeats until Christmas Eve, when they find shelter at the local church and there's a big party and after the party, everyone stays for the midnight church service."

"Nine days of partying?" Prowl asked.

"More like nine days of family time and neighborly connections," came a voice down by their feet.

Startled, they looked down. The local priest, easy to recognize by the stole around his shoulders, was standing there.

He bowed. "My name is Father Miguel, and we would like to invite you to our posada."

Jazz and Prowl were delighted to accept his invitation, carefully moving around the barrier and joining the village in their celebration.

Prowl asked Father Miguel, "What is that?" as he pointed to a display in the front yard of the home the party was centered upon.

"That is a _nacimiento_, a Nativity scene. When the posada arrives at the designated home, the carried statues of Joseph, Mary, and the donkey will spend the night at this nacimiento before continuing their journey tomorrow evening." Father Miguel told him.

Prowl thanked him, then watched the festival with delighted optics. He laughed as the children tried to hit the piñata, the adults expertly pulling the rope so that the children sometimes connected but often did not, until the youngest child, with a little help from his father, was allowed to really hit the piñata and break it, shrieks of glee signaling the successful hit. There was a scramble for the goodies that spilled from it, but all the children were happy as the older children shared their gathered spoils with their younger siblings.

Prowl looked for the priest, but he was in the midst of the festivities, so instead Prowl looked to Jazz. "Jazz? Why do they break a…pintyata?"

Jazz kept his mirth to a small quirk of his lips. "It's piñata, Prowl. Say it, pin-yaa-taa. Supposedly, it represents the seven deadly sins, and breaking it and releasing the goodies inside means you defeated the sins and made it to heaven. This is just a little piñata. The final posada will have a huge piñata."

"Interesting," Prowl said quietly.

They stayed until the party broke up, then thanked the priest and sought shelter for the night in the village. The priest happily offered them a place to park in their alt forms in his yard, and they drifted into recharge, happily close to each other and basking in the culture they'd happened to find on their travels.

* * *

><p>End notes: Please, I mean no offense to anyone's religious beliefs. I tried to tell the story of Jesus as if I were a giant robot from outer space that has run into many creation myths in his time and this one is just one more to add to his database.<p> 


	6. Bows Mean Presents, Right?

Title: Bows Mean Presents, Right?  
>Prompt: "Jazz, why are you wearing a bow there?"<br>Warnings: plug and play, PWP, kissing

* * *

><p>After their trip to Mexico, which was successful for the Autobots, Jazz and Prowl became closer and started spending more time together. Jazz would come up with a music festival and invite Prowl, Prowl would invite Jazz when he could to go with him on diplomatic missions and they would spend some of their time playing tourist.<p>

Slowly, carefully, the two built trust and friendship between them. Jazz learned that Prowl did not appreciate public displays of affection, but a touch to his shoulder would always earn Jazz a smile. Prowl learned that Jazz would come back from missions unwilling to talk, but would need a party to unwind and then a shoulder to lean on and an audio to listen as he poured out his fears about what had or had not happened on the mission. They learned to trust each other to guard their back, figuratively and literally. Prowl and Jazz learned to go over missions together before officer meetings and work out any conflicts privately so they could present a united front to the rest of the command staff.

Once, when Optimus dropped a new mission on the table in the middle of the meeting, both Prowl and Jazz hung back a little bit, waiting for the others to say their piece before they stepped forward and thoroughly and methodically dissected the mission and made plans, arguing about a few details as they always did and working out the areas they didn't agree on. By the time they were done, the rest of the command staff was simply watching them. After that, their working together was not questioned by anyone, as their performance was talked about for a long time afterward.

Now, the Autobots had adopted many of the celebrations and customs of the USA, but had broadened many of the celebrations to include customs from other parts of the world. For example, the winter holiday celebration stretched from the solstice to Epiphany; during that time, mechs who wanted to spend time with each other and have a private celebration did it on a day when they could all get together. Prowl worked extra shifts to fulfill the requests of various mechs who wished have matching off-duty times, starting months before the winter holiday season. It was one of the few times Red Alert requested time off, and since his list of mechs trustworthy enough to cover a duty shift was very small, Prowl had to make sure at least two on Red's list were available. He used that as a starting point and worked from there to build the duty roster for the three weeks of holiday celebrations. He was quite surprised to receive a request from Jazz for a day off that matched his own, but he honored the request. Jazz bounced with glee when his request was granted and began planning a special celebration for him and Prowl.

* * *

><p>Prowl approached Jazz's door with a minor thrill of trepidation running down his spinal strut. He trusted Jazz, but this was new and different and therefore a little frightening. He clutched a present for Jazz, hoping that it wasn't too much. He pressed the door chime and waited.<p>

Jazz opened the door, smiling at Prowl as he invited him in.

Prowl drew in a deep vent of air. Jazz had lit some Cybertronian candles, long lasting flames that burned a very low grade of energon. Violet energon swirled in cubes on the low table in front of Jazz's sofa and soft music, a Cybertronian symphony, played from Jazz's home stereo system. Jazz appeared to be nervous but happy, and he started talking the moment Prowl was fully in the room.

"I'm really glad we could get together and do this. C'mon in, Prowl and make yourself comfortable. How was your day?"

Jazz ushered him in and offered him a seat. Prowl carefully sat down, then watched as Jazz perched nervously on the edge of his seat.

Awkwardly, Prowl offered Jazz the gift.

"Ooo, a present!" Jazz tore into the gift with the same enthusiasm displayed by Daniel in his younger years.

The comm chip, a way for Jazz to communicate with Prowl outside of official channels, was a big step for Prowl to take, and Jazz was awestruck at the trust and commitment the little chip represented. He popped open his central comm board, and Prowl stepped forward to help him slot it into the correct place.

Jazz offered Prowl a matching chip and helped him seat it in his comm board.

Then they sat, staring at each other until Jazz started and exclaimed, "Oh, energon! Here, Prowl, have some," as he pushed one of the cubes toward Prowl.

Happy to have to have something to do with his hands, Prowl clutched the cube.

They stared at each other until Jazz suddenly put his cube of energon down and started to laugh. It started quietly, but soon escalated into full guffaws until Jazz was laughing so hard he couldn't sit up.

Concerned, Prowl set his cube down and stood, moving quickly to Jazz's side and hovering over him, uncertain what his next move should be.

Jazz's laughter finally tapered off into half-sparked chuckles. He looked up at Prowl and gasped out,

"Only you and I could put ourselves in this situation, Prowl." He controlled his laughter and sat up.

Prowl seated himself again, his watchful optics never leaving Jazz's face. "What situation, Jazz?"

Jazz sobered quickly. "Th' situation of…well, shoot." He vented air, fumbling for the words he needed. "Prowl, I think I love ya. You've become more important to me than the Autobots, and that's a little scary. I want you in my life, and I really want to move our relationship forward, but I don't know if you feel the same."

Prowl cocked an optic ridge and said, "The comm chip should be a clue."

"Well, yeah, and thank you for that, but…" Jazz trailed off and his fingers plucking at the fabric covering the seat he was in.

Prowl moved closer and reached over, wrapping his hand around Jazz's. When Jazz looked up at him, Prowl smiled.

"I'm not as brave as you are, Jazz. I couldn't say what you just did, but I can match you. I love you. I want more, too."

Jazz's smile could have lit the Ark for weeks with its brilliance. They sat, clasping each other's hands, for a long time. Finally, Jazz's smile faded and he moved.

"So, um, how do we do this?"

Prowl smiled himself. "How do you want to do it?"

Jazz looked at him shyly. "You won't laugh?"

Solemnly, Prowl shook his head. "I won't laugh."

Jazz stood up and walked over to his tiny desk, fussing around with something before coming back to his seat.

Prowl drew in cooling air. Jazz had put a stick-on bow, the biggest human one Prowl had ever seen, on the right side of his body, under his bumper, right over a panel. It took him a full second to realize that the panel must hold Jazz's interface cables and connectors, and he jerked his head up and looked at Jazz.

Jazz was trembling. Prowl fell forward to his knees, right at Jazz's feet, and reached for his hands. When he touched Jazz, the other mech grabbed his hands tightly.

"Jazz…I'm honored. Does this mean I get to unwrap my present now?"

Jazz's tension leached from his body. "Well, I suppose, if you really want to. Or you could leave it wrapped up."

Prowl shook his head, "I'm pretty sure that would lead to questions about why you have a bow there, and I'd rather not fend other mechs off you, thank you very much."

"Well, then, I guess you'd better unwrap your present," Jazz breathed.

Prowl moved, but not where Jazz expected. He pressed a kiss the number 4 on Jazz's chest. Jazz drew in air, his hands moving to Prowl's shoulders and beginning to explore there. This was no more than they'd already done, but the promise of more excited them both. Fingers trembled as they explored seams, ventilations were often, and heat began building between them.

Prowl finally turned his attention to the bow, tracing the tails which Jazz had cut short, then inching his way up to under the bow. He found the suction cup holding the bow onto Jazz's body and popped it free, setting the bow aside, then returning his attention to Jazz. He traced the faint outline of the panel before continuing his explorations, but he soon returned. This time, when he traced the outline, Jazz sent the command to open the panel.

Prowl smoothed his hand over the open space, causing Jazz to shudder at the air passing over the sensitive connectors. Jazz reached over and ran his thumb over Prowl's lower lip, eliciting his own shudder from Prowl.

Prowl pulled one of the cables from Jazz's panel, bringing it over to his panel, set above his left hip. He plugged it in, then unspooled a cable from his panel and pulled it over to Jazz, gently pushing the end home in one of Jazz's connectors.

Their systems send handshakes and once the two way communications were set, they could access each other's cache. Firewalls kept them out of each other's processor and within a contained area, where Jazz showed his skill at this, setting up a loop that picked up his arousal, his reaction to Prowl's touches and fed it to Prowl. It took Prowl a few seconds longer, but soon he had his own loop set up and they spiraled higher, each glide of a hand across plating or touch of a sensor node feeding the mutual arousal until Jazz went rigid, his systems cresting the wave and falling into overload.

The sensation of falling pulled Prowl and he followed Jazz into overload, a brief cry leaving his lip plates.

Their systems required a cool-down period. Prowl was still on his knees in front of Jazz, his head resting on Jazz's chest. Jazz was slumped in the chair, his arms over Prowl's shoulders.

Eventually, Prowl lifted his head from Jazz's chest. They stared solemnly at each other for a moment, then twin smiles broke across their faces.

"Oh, yeah," Jazz said, "you were so worth the wait."

"Indeed, as were you," Prowl answered, pressing a kiss to Jazz's chest.

"Merry Christmas, Prowl."

"Happy New Year, Jazz."

The end (finally!)


End file.
